


Words

by Avelera



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, One Shot, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 14:42:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4610622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Arkenstone debacle, Bilbo no longer trusts his judgement when it comes to the dwarves, and Thorin is determined to find out why that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13470486) by [GodOfWar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfWar/pseuds/GodOfWar)



> Beautyagegoodnesssize prompted: After the arkenstone debacle, Bilbo questions the wisdom of being brave, of taking risks to try to save a friend. Maybe if he had acted differently, things would have turned out differently. He never trusts himself to get that close to anyone again.
> 
> This was for a game I play where I take sad prompts and turn them into happy fills, and this fluffy little one-shot came out of it. Not much to it, but I do hope you enjoy.

Thorin noticed when Bilbo did not rise immediately once the council adjourned, but sat staring at his hands, his feet swaying back and forth a little ways above the ground. The rest of the dwarves filed out, and the elves through a separate door on the far side. The fact that neither entourage attempted to kill the other was remarkable progress, in Thorin’s mind, even if it was also a bit of a shame.

Bilbo looked up as Thorin put his hand on his shoulder, his skin sallow and eyes shadowed. His teeth worried his lower lip, but he left off as soon as he caught Thorin’s eye.

“There is something you wish to say?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo’s mouth opened, but after a long silence he deflated, looking away once more. “No, no I’m sure it went quite well.”

“Many times I thought you would speak, but always you remained silent,” Thorin said, and when Bilbo would still not meet his gaze a stroke of inspiration led him to kneel down beside the chair, so he was looking up into Bilbo’s face, and could see fully his obvious misery. “I would value your counsel should you have any to give, Bilbo.”

Another shrug, as silent as the last.

“So you have decided to be childish?”

_That_ got a reaction. Bilbo straightened so quickly he nearly rose from his seat, and his nostrils flared as he glared down at Thorin. “ _Childish_?”

“Or Elvish, but I have chosen the lesser insult,” Thorin deadpanned, and that at least won him an exasperated snort. “You will not speak even when some matter clearly rests heavily upon you. I would call that Elvish behavior.”

“But that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Bilbo sighed. “Elves and Dwarves, Dwarves and Elves, you two can hardly seem to… never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

“That has never stopped you before,” Thorin said, restraining his own sigh in favor of meeting Bilbo’s gaze directly. “You’ve given us a great deal of fuss over trifles that do not matter, or are handkerchiefs now more important than affairs of state?”

“You’re never going to let me live that one down, are you?” Bilbo remarked, but there was the faintest upturning at the corner of his lips, and he shook his head ruefully at himself. “Quite honestly, Thorin, I don’t believe it’s my place. You seem to have this very well in hand, and—”

“Jari Bloodaxe nearly cut Thranduil’s steward in half for ‘eyeballing’ him,” Thorin said dryly. “I for one saw no problem in that plan, but you seemed to take some issue.”

“Oh good gracious,” Bilbo said, burying his face in hands. His next words were muffled, “Feren was only looking down to see who was speaking, he wasn’t _eyeballing_.”

“And if you hadn’t spoken, he may not have had any eyeballs _left_ ,” Thorin said. “Bilbo, I would not invite you to these council sessions if I thought you had nothing to offer. Speak clearly, and without fear of retribution. I want to know your opinion.”

Bilbo fidgeted, looking down into his lap. “But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? ‘Fear of retribution’? I’ve been wrong about that before.” He paused, and Thorin’s blood went very cold.

“Bilbo, I would not… the illness is long past now, and never again, I swear, would I ever…”

Bilbo started at this, eyes wild as he caught on. “Oh! Oh, Thorin, no I did not mean that! Well, not entirely, that is to say— it is not you, it was _me_. My actions, that is. I was the one who did wrong without thinking, without planning… I have foolishly leapt to such terrible conclusions, all in the surety that I was right and doing the right thing, and even when I paused to think I still did the wrong thing. I should never have kept the stone from you in the first place, never mind letting you find out about it in such a dreadfully public manner. Since then…”

“Yes?” Thorin said, his blood beginning to warm once more as some of that creeping dread left his heart. He leaned closer to listen, leaving Bilbo immediately flustered by the sudden proximity.

“In the end, I know so little about your people, and theirs, and there is so much between you that I do not understand. Quite frankly I’m afraid I’ll just… muck it up again. Start another war, even when I’m trying to stop one. And it would serve me quite right, but not… not you. It was a very stupid thing I did, but you were the one who suffered for it.”

Thorin considered this, then nodded gravely. “Yes, it was a very stupid thing.”

Bilbo started, his expression going wry. “Well, you didn’t have to agree quite so readily.”

“But it was. A very stupid thing, done very bravely, at a time where there were few level heads and fewer quiet hearts. A stupid thing done with as much deliberation and thought as could be mustered in a place of fear, and with little information at hand. Bilbo,” Thorin said, catching Bilbo’s cheek and turning him back as the hobbit tried to look away. “If all your decisions in this council chamber are half so carefully made, with as much concern for my people and our wellbeing, even without full knowledge of all our customs and ancient blood-feuds, then I should think we could not consider ourselves better served.”

At this point Bilbo’s cheeks were bright red, and Thorin almost could not hear him as he mumbled. “… Very little of reason, and much of care, of entirely the wrong sort.”

Thorin frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t exactly say I was thinking as clearly as you seem to believe, or as carefully. Or that I wasn’t… terribly attached to the situation, and… that is… I’m not sure I can…”

“What?”

Bilbo licked his lips, gaze flickering. “I’m not sure I can be all that rational in certain… regards. Going forward. So perhaps it’s for the best if I’m not here.”

“Would you care to explain, or must I once again wander in bewilderment of your elf-speak?” Thorin said, to be greeted with another huff, but at least indignation seem to give Bilbo enough outrage to make his point clearly.

“I was quite prepared to give Thranduil a good kicking myself when he brought up your grandfather again, and those not-so-very veiled references to your own bout with the sickness. Quite frankly, I’m not sure I would have been better than any dwarvish berserker in here had I been called upon to speak.”

“Yet you presented our case for food negotiations with admirable calm not a ten minutes before that,” Thorin said, yet a strange feeling bubbled within his chest like a spring from the rocks, at the thought of Bilbo so outraged on behalf of him and his family. “So it cannot be simply Thranduil, as understandable as that would be. So what…?”

“You! It was you, you confounded dwarf, and you need not lead me along the garden path any further!” Bilbo exploded, and had Thorin been standing he would have rocked back on his heels at the outburst. “I can’t stand him making snide remarks about you, I can’t stand the thought of him scoring points on a few days of indiscretion caused by circumstances entirely outside your control, when his own habits and behavior are so thoroughly disgusting! Drinking from dawn until dusk like that, and his manners…!” Bilbo huffed, puffing up like an agitated pigeon. “To think I once believed him good, or that giving him the stone would resolve all this! Why, I’m not even sure who I’m more furious with, that so-called Elvenking, or myself! How could I have ever been such a stupid, naive, clot-headed… What are you laughing at?”

“That is all? There is nothing ignoble about wishing to defend a companion’s honor,” Thorin chuckled.

“ _All_? I am entirely unable to be reasonable when we are in the same room! My wits are scrambled, my temper a force of its own!”

“That is hardly an unusual affliction. Many in this room may speak thus when Thranduil is present, but that does not mean we forego negotiations entirely, and I do believe that was much on your recommendation…”

“I don’t mean the Elvenking, drat it Thorin! I mean you!” Bilbo was so incensed now he was nearly panting with rage. “How can I make reasonable decisions on Erebor’s behalf when your wellbeing is all I can think about! This is utterly unconscionable, this is a disgrace! I wake up in the morning and I can barely restrain myself from counting the seconds until I see you. Once I’m here, I can’t speak but just stand about, stammering like a tween! I don’t know what is the matter, but _clearly_ this is the very madness which made me bollocks up that matter with the stone so badly. I can’t be trusted in this state, Thorin, much less advise! I should be a hundred miles from here, at least until it fades and I can actually be some semblance of _myself_ again. Or… oh goodness, what if it’s some form of dragon sickness that infects hobbits? Yes, that must be it, oh I’ve been such a _fool_ …”

Thorin found himself curiously breathless after Bilbo’s tirade, and as it stumbled on he took the hobbit’s hand before he could get any further into his stride, arresting his frantic motions and drawing his attention back. “Do you feel a strange heat upon your skin? And in your chest, surging up from your heart into your throat? Do you feel dizzy with it, the world more vivid and real and yet aching with every breath? Are all thoughts drawing you ever back to the idea of being in another’s presence?”

“Yes… yes, exactly! Oh gracious, Thorin, is that the dragon sickness? Do I have a fever, here, feel my forehead… but no, on second thought, I think I feel it myself, on my cheeks…Oh no, oh no…”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said calmly as he could, which was not very, for his lips were twitching into a soft smile and if he could have but seen himself he would have noted the light shining in his eyes. “If that is true, then it is not dragon sickness.”

This, at least, paused Bilbo’s rantings.

“Dragon sickness leaves you cold, as if your blood is turning to ice. Inside there is nothing,” Thorin pressed a hand over his heart. “Only the gold provides any warmth, but even that is distant and chill as a star. All becomes a haze of confusion and shadow, with nothing so abhorrent as the presence of others.”

Bilbo drew himself up. “Well that’s entirely unlike this! Perhaps it is a different strain… oh, but then how would you know what it feels like? Is this some branch of dwarvish lore?”

“In a manner of speaking. I know what you describe. I feel it every day. It is why I value your opinion so, why I wish you to stay by my side so long as it is your desire to remain,” Thorin said, and it was a wonder his voice remained steady as it did. “I had not dared presume that it may ever affect you, and I was content with that, even if I dared hope.”

“Dared hope…?” Bilbo mouthed the word back to himself. His eyes widened. Then widened again and he went quite still, staring into the distance as if in a trance before his gaze snapped back down to Thorin. “Oh. Oh! But that’s…! That can’t be right, not you as well! You’re so… so very…. Well, you’re Thorin!”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Thorin said dryly.

“And I’m…!”

“Very dear to me, yes,” Thorin replied. He still held Bilbo’s hand, and on it he placed a brief kiss before rising to his feet. “But I would not wish to push you when already your day has been difficult. Only know that your words are always treasured by me.”

He turned, or would have but no sooner had he then he felt a tap on his shoulder, and when he looked back Bilbo was standing on the chair. The hobbit’s jaw was firm, and his expression intent, even fearsomely so with the added height that made him stand above Thorin for once. What that intent was though became clear when he pulled Thorin forward by the shoulders, leaned down, and kissed him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to check me out on Tumblr, where I am also "Avelera."
> 
> If you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, I do so love hearing what my readers thought!


End file.
